


No Sacrifice, No Victory

by Darkenedstorm



Category: Bakuten Shoot Beyblade, Beyblade
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:07:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25526401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkenedstorm/pseuds/Darkenedstorm
Summary: Fourteen months after Tyson and the G Revolutions defeated BEGA's top five, the sport of beyblading has entered a new style of competitive play. But in the shadows of the new competition, a new beyblade organisation threatens to undo months of work by the BBA. Can Tyson, Max, Ray, Kai and their friends reunite to bring down this latest threat?
Relationships: Hiwatari Kai/Original Character(s), Kinomiya Takao | Tyson Granger/Tachibana Hiromi | Hilary Tachibana
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	1. The Granger Dojo

Chapter One

**The Granger Dojo**

* * *

Steph Summers stood outside the wooden gates of the Granger Dojo, her suitcase in one hand and her phone clutched tightly in the other as she debated the proper etiquette for announcing her arrival. The former Bladebreaker had never used the entrance to the house itself, but rather the rear entrance via the Dojo, where her best friend and teammate, Tyson, was usually found practicing in the yard. Under any other circumstance, ringing the bell seemed unnaturally formal, but was using the back door acceptable when you hadn’t seen the aforementioned best friend in over a year?

Fourteen months had passed since she and her bitbeast, Seraphina, had stood alongside Tyson and the Bladebreakers against the BEGA league. Together, they had defeated BEGA’s top five, outed Boris Balkov as a criminal, and helped to reinstate the BBA as the governing Beyblade body in Japan.

It wasn’t exactly a small accomplishment for a group of rag tag teenagers, and after three years working to expose B.I.O.V.O.L.T, each of the Bladebreakers had decided to go on a temporary hiatus. Tyson had spent a year abroad, studying in America with Max. Ray had returned to the White Tigers, while Kenny had taken an intership with the BBA’s beyblade development program. And Kai ... well none of them had heard from Kai since his match with Tyson.

“Why are you just standing there?” The loud voice snapped Steph out of her riviere and she turned to see her younger cousin and teammate struggling up the stone steps with her luggage. “I could use some help here!”

Jet-lagged, with her usually neat blonde hair in disarray, Rebecca Carter dragged not one or two, but four suitcases behind her. It wasn’t like Becky to travel light, after all, especially when travelling transcontinental from Italy.

For the next year, the two girls would be calling the Dojo home while they attended the prestigious Bakuten Academy, an international high school where each of the Bladebreakers had been offered a scholarship with their return to the Japanese team. At seventeen, this would be Steph’s last year competing as a Junior beyblader. At the end of the year, she should have to decide if she was going to continue beyblading professionally, or if she was going to retire and go off to college instead.

Tucking her phone into her pocket, Steph hurried down the steps to help her cousin. She grabbed one of the suitcases and was taken aback by the shear weight of it. “Tell me again why the movers couldn’t do this?” she asked.

“The movers aren’t coming until next week!” the younger girl reminded her as they struggled up the steps. “I’d like to see how you’re going to survive a whole week on one suitcase.”

Somehow, as she glanced at her lone suitcase, Steph suspected her cousin may have a point. Unfortunately, most of her wardrobe, while fitting for a warm Italian summer, was far too light for the milder Japanese climate - she would have to do some shopping for a winter wardrobe to fend off the cold months ahead.

Rather than admit Becky may be right, however, Steph said lightly; “Japanese high schools have uniforms.”

“Don’t remind me,” Becky said, rolling her eyes. With a heave of effort, she dragged her remaining suitcases towards the rear of the dojo. “What are you waiting for?” she called.

Through the back it was then, Steph decided. Front doors were overrated anyway.

The Dojo hadn’t changed in the year she’d been away. Inside the wooden gates of the compound were two buildings; the main house was a two storey traditional style Japanese house with a gabled roof while the Dojo stood separated from main house by a gravel path and a garden of dormant cherry blossom trees.

It was a late bloom this year, she thought to herself. In Tokyo, the cherry blossoms bloomed in early April, but here in Bakuten, which sat further south of the capital city, there were usually in full bloom by late March. It would be a treat to see them in bloom these year, since she often missed sakura season during her brief trips to Japan.

“Looks like Grandpa planted some new bonsai trees,” Becky said as they walked, her suitcases rolling noisily behind her. Everyone, even if they weren’t related to him addressed Ryu Kinomiya as ‘Grandpa’.

At the rear of the dojo, a teenage boy of about Steph’s age was sprawled on the grass, one arm draped over his face, blocking the sun from his eyes. A blue and white baseball cap lay discarded on the grass next to him, and a few meters away, in a small, shallow beystadium that had seen more than its fair share of beybattles, a familiar white beyblade was spinning.

“Glad to see you’re slacking off as usual,” Steph said, feeling a smile tugging at her lips.

The teenager’s eyes shot open and he scrambled to his feet. “Steph! Becky! When did you get here?

Tyson Granger, the three-time Japanese World Champion had certainly grown up in the year since the BEGA tournament. He was taller and lankier than Steph remembered. His navy hair had grown longer and unrulier and he had filled out in the shoulders, but the sheepish grin and the excitement filled brown eyes were exactly as she remembered them.

“About five minutes ago,” she told him. “Our flight was delayed in Amsterdam so we were - ” she stopped short, feeling the wind knocked out of her as he reached over unexpectedly and pulled both girls into a tight hug.

“Tyson,” Becky exclaimed in protest. “You’re pulling on my hair.” Delightedly, Tyson squeezed his arms around them even tighter.

For as long as they had been teammates, Tyson had derived a certain amount of pleasure from good-naturedly antagonising the younger girl, similar to that way one might antagonise a much loved sibling. Steph couldn’t be certain, but she though she heard his voice catch when he said; “It’s good to have you home.”

She smiled softly. “It’s good to be home,” she agreed.

“You know what’s also good,” Becky muttered, her voice muffled beneath Tyson’s arm. “Oxygen!”

With a sheepish grin, Tyson released them both. Becky’s hands instantly went to her hair, adjusting the carefully styled curls to sit around her shoulders once again. Tyson leaned back, as though examining both of them, and his grin. “Steph, have you gotten shorter?”

Steph glowered at him. Tyson had said that to her every time she had returned to Japan. It wasn’t her fault that she had stopped growing over two years ago while he continued to shoot up like an over fertilised tree.

Before she could complain however, Becky said; “is that Dragoon?”

At the mention of his beyblade, Tyson’s brown eyes lit up. “Sure is,” he said. He reached out his hand, and the white beyblade revolved once on the spot, then returned to his hand. Proudly, he held it out for both girls to see. “The Chief rebuilt it after my last battle with Dranzer. We call it Dragoon MF.”

Dragoon had undergone a number of modifications over the years, and this latest model was no disappointment. The new HMS system beyblades were twenty percent smaller than their previous beyblades, and made of entirely metal. Steph could see that Kenny had tweaked the attack ring and weight disk from the previous model to make it slightly more balanced. In the centre of the beyblade, the emblem of Dragoon shimmered in the sunlight.

“Is that a new running core?” Steph observed, feeling a bit jealous. She had made some minor tweaks to both Seraphina and Ophelia since, but she would have to annoy the Chief for a fresh build if Tyson had one.

“Yep! It’s the Chief’s latest model!” Tyson told them excitedly.

Behind them, the shoji door to the dojo opened and Steph felt herself grin when she saw the old Japanese man step out into the yard, a Kendo stick balanced carefully on his shoulder.

“Welcome home, girls,” he said, then turned to his grandson with a frown. “Bro, where are your manners?” Grandpa had picked up a fair few American phrases over the years, and it was humorous to hear them spoken with a thick Japanese accent. “Help the girls take their things to their room.”

Eagerly, Tyson scooped up his cap and placed it on his head, backwards of course. Then he held out his hands and took one of the two suitcases Steph was holding. Becky happily offloaded another one of hers. “Come on,” he said, leading them inside. “Grandpa’s been so excited you’re staying here. We cleared out Dad’s study - he hardly uses it anymore.”

Struggling with the two suitcases, he nudged the back door open with his foot and held it open for them, revealing the Granger’s kitchen and living room.

“Shoes,” Steph reminded her cousin, slipping off her own and stepping into the kitchen, her suitcase catching on an old, loose floorboard.

The kitchen was small and and cramped, but it was exactly how Steph had remembered it, from the old clock on the wall with its faded numbers to the wonky chairs around a wooden table where Tyson would eat at least three bowls of cereal before heading out for practice. The living room on the other hand, was spaciously built in traditional Japanese style, with a short legged table in the centre of the room surrounded by traditional cushions. The TV was on and tuned to the local sports channel; in the off-season Tyson and Hiro liked to watch soccer. A single photo frame sat beside the TV with a photo of their mother, Yoshie.

“Grandpa brought some cereal for breakfast,” Tyson told them, pointing to the cupboards above the kitchen sink. “Yes, we have coffee,” he added hastily, interrupting Steph before she could even ask. The lack of coffee culture in Japan compared to Italy had always been a sour point for her.

“Reruns of Takeshi’s Castle are on at five, Grandpa gets the TV then - but there’s another TV in my room. There’s some pretty good game shows on after dinner too.”

A narrow staircase on the opposite side of the kitchen lead to the second floor. Tyson rolled their suitcases across the living room. “Geez, Bec, did you bring half of Rome with you?” he remarked as he heaved one of the pink suitcases up the steps.

“Ha, very funny Tyson,” Becky said as she followed him up the stairs with her much lighter carry on. Steph was careful not to bump the walls with her suitcase as she followed.

“Daichi called this morning,” Tyson was saying. The younger and last member of their team had returned to his hometown a few months after the BEGA match. “His mom is doing much better, so he might be able to visit over the term break.”

They had reached the first floor landing, where the staircase opened up into a long corridor that was barely wider than the stairs themselves. “That’s Grandpa’s room,” Tyson pointed to each of the doors one by one as they passed. “My room … Hiro’s room … oh, there’s only one bathroom.”

A look of horror crossed Becky’s face at this. Steph knew all to well that Becky’s morning routine was sacred. Neither of the girls could describe themselves as morning people, but while Steph was usually satisfied if she at least had caffeine in hand in the morning, a Becky without appropriate pampering time was a very unhappy Becky indeed.

“I’ll make a bathroom schedule,” Steph said hastily. “You’re fine with that, right Tyson?”

Tyson shrugged his shoulders. “Works for me,” he said. “Come on. The study’s on the third floor.” Becky still looked slightly apprehensive as she followed him down the corridor and Tyson updated them on the movements of the rest of their teammates.

“Max came home last week,” he said, stopping to lift Becky’s suitcase up the second set of stairs at the end of the hall. “His mom and dad moved back into the Hobby shop with baby Charlie.” Charlotte Tate was a year old, and from what Steph and Becky had seen in pictures, the splitting image of her older brother.

“Ray’s flight landed yesterday,” Tyson went on. “And I got an email from Kai last week - he was still in Russia, but he promised he’d be back before school starts.”

If it wasn’t for Becky accidentally knocking her carry on into the stair railing with a thud, Steph might have thought mention of their former captain had gone unheard. Tyson, however, didn’t notice - he had gone on to explain how he and the Chief had been working on Dragoon all summer, tweaking it to perfection.

The stairs creaked as he heaved Becky’s luggage to the top of the landing. Their bedroom wasn’t a study by most standards, but rather a large room with a sloped ceiling at one end and a large gable fronted dormer window at the other. There were two beds on either side of the room and a small wardrobe each (Becky was going to find it very hard to fit all her clothes in), and someone had pushed two small desks up against the wall opposite the doorway.

“It’s not much,” Tyson said, and Steph got the sense he was feeling rather embarrassed. “Grandpa is going to put up some curtains, and Hiro fixed the heater. There’s a spare bookcase in the garage we can bring up - ”

“It’s cosy,” Steph interjected. While the Summer’s home in Rome wasn’t nearly as elaborate as the Tornatore Manor, Steph had never had to share a bedroom before. Sharing one with Becky and her numerous suitcases would certainly be a challenge.

“The bookcase would be nice,” Becky piped up. “I don’t want to be buried under all of Steph’s books.”

“I don’t have that many books,” Steph corrected her.

While they unpacked, Tyson flopped onto Steph’s new bed and told them about his time in America.

“It was awesome! Judy showed me the new beyblade designs the PPB are working on. And I got to hang out with the All Starz - Michael and Rick are going to be tough to beat at the next World Championships.”

“My money is on Emily being tougher than both of them,” Steph said. “Robert and Johnny were pretty impressive in the British Open last year.”

“Don’t let Johnny hear you say that,” Becky said as she unceremoniously tossed some socks into the wardrobe. “It’ll go straight to his head.”

“Yeah but Robert is the best in Europe, I can’t wait for a rematch with him either!” Tyson said. He jumped in surprise when Steph heaved her suitcase onto the bed next to him.“How was England, by the way?”

“Cold,” she replied as she rummaged through the suitcase for her toiletries. “But it was good to spend some time with my dad.”

Marcus Summers was a Law professor at Oxford University. He spent most of the year flying back and forth to Rome to see his daughters, so last year Steph had enrolled in a summer course at the University. She’d even met a boy there - not that she was going to tell Tyson about that!

Successfully locating the pink and blue makeup bag that contained her toothbrush and other personal items, she asked. “Which one was the bathroom again?”

“Third door on the left.”

Mumbling her thanks, she headed downstairs, where Tyson had cleared a drawer for the two girls to share. On her way, a collection of frames on the wall caught her attention and she stopped to inspect them closer.

Grandpa had framed newspaper cuttings that dated back to the very beginnings of Tyson’s beyblading career. The first frame was from the Japanese Nationals five years earlier, where Tyson had defeated Kai for the first time. In the picture, a twelve year old Tyson was holding a small trophy and wore a grin from ear to ear.

The following articles depicted each of the Bladebreakers achievements that followed in that year, their championship wins in China and America, their exhibition match against the Majestics and the World Championships in Russia. Newer articles and photos chronicled the BBA Revolution’s journey around the world in their third Championship. She was just reading the article from the BEGA tournament when a door at the end of the hallway opened and Hiro Granger stepped out.

“I thought I heard a commotion over suitcases,” he said, a hint of humor in his voice. “Am I being overly ambitious expecting Tyson and Becky to get along while living under the same roof?”

“Only if you don’t adhere to the bathroom schedule,” Steph advised him.

Hiro chuckled. “That might be easier said than done.” He turned to the wall. “So you found Grandpa’s Hall of Fame?” he said. He pointed to one of the frames. This frame was even older and dustier than the one from Nationals, and the newspaper was yellowed with age. The headline read; Small town teenager wins Japanese Beyblade Championships. The picture depicted a thirteen year old Hiro Granger, wearing the blue and white cap he’d handed down to Tyson. The year was dated 1997.

“This is mine,” he said, and there was a hint of nostalgia in his voice. “Back then, the BBA was only a few years old, and we didn’t make as many headlines as the Bladebreakers did. The WBBA didn’t exist back then either, so there was no international competition.”

“Really?” she asked, surprised. The World Beyblade Battle Association was the international governing body of Beyblading - they organised the World championships.

Hiro shook his head. “Nope,” he said. “That was all Dickenson’s doing in the coming years. He approached Secretary Douglas of the PPB and the heads of the European and Asian Leagues to create the WBBA.”

“Was this the last year you competed?” she asked curiously.

He nodded, and his smile faded. “Mom died shortly after. I think Grandpa is still a bit disappointed I retired after that.”

“Grandpa has always been our biggest fan,” she reminded him. “Oh - this one is new.”

The ink on the final article hadn’t faded yet and it was dated a mere twelve months earlier following the exhibition match with BEGA. There was no trophy in this photo, but an older Tyson still wore that same grin from the first photo, his fist pumped triumphantly into the air. Max and Kenny stood with him as always, both of them smiling, but this time they were joined in a huddle by Ray and Steph. Beside them, Kai stood with his arm around Becky’s shoulders. While Becky looked as ecstatic as her teammates, the Russian wore what Steph could only describe as a sad smile - he had lost Dranzer only hours earlier.

In the middle of the photo was a newcomer, clearly younger than the rest of the team, and, standing next to Steph, he barely reached her shoulder. The younger boy was Daichi Sumeragi - the only member of the former G Revolutions who hadn’t accepted the scholarship to Bakuten Academy this year.

The smile on Hiro’s face faded completely, and Steph wondered if his role as BEGA’s coach was still a touchy subject for him. “Think we can do it all over again?” she asked, jabbing her thumb towards the photo.

“That is the idea,” he said. Then he shrugged and changed the subject. “Now what do you say I bring that bookshelf up for you?”

* * *

It had taken a combined effort from all three Grangers to move the heavy bookshelf up from the garage. Steph arranged the small collection of books she had brought with her on the plane on the shelves and squeezed her clothes into the wardrobe while Becky’s suitcases spilled out over the floor.

The rain set in around dinner time and Grandpa made ramen, one of Steph’s favourites, along with an array of home made dumplings. Halfway through the meal, the conversation turned to the European Beyblade Championships - a conversation Steph had been keen to avoid if she could.

“We watched all of your matches,” Tyson told Steph eagerly while they ate. “You really gave Enrique a hard time in the final, it was a shame you lost the last round.”

Becky stabbed at the shoots of black fungus in her bowl. “Enrique got lucky,” she said bluntly. “Steph had a much tougher draw than he did.” There was a degree of truth to Becky’s words. The two girls had faced off in the quarter-finals of the Chamnpionship. Steph had won the match by the skin of her teeth, only to have to face Oliver in the semi-finals. 

“I had to do some last minute repairs to Seraphina after my match with Oliver,” Steph explained. “Becky and I tweaked the attack ring a bit between matches. I thought the extra defense might work in my favour, but Amphyllion was too tough for me.”

Becky’s beyblade was built for endurance, whereas Steph used a slightly more balanced attack and stamina type beyblade, which gave her the slightest upper hand against her younger cousin. Enrique’s beyblade, Amphyllion, was built purely for strength, and it’s overwhelming attack power had proven challenging even for Tyson to defeat.

“It was a good strategy,” Hiro commented. “You’ll do better if you play to your strengths, but I think your nerves got the better of you the longer the match went on.”

Steph poked at her noodles. “I’ve never actually beaten him before,” she admitted. The loss had been her fourth championship loss to Enrique in as many years, and the sting of it hadn’t worn off just yet.

“Well, we have the year ahead to plan for your rematch,” Hiro offered. “And Becky, we can work on your defence; having an endurance style beyblade is no excuse for neglecting it.”

“Don’t take it personally,” Tyson said when Becky looked offended. “Hiro thinks everyone has been slacking off since the last championships.”

“I certainly haven’t seen you out practicing much,” Hiro reminded him.

Tyson stabbed at his dumpling rather violently and it toppled over the rim of the plate and onto the table. “I don’t need to practice; I’m the world champion, remember?”

“The Under 18’s is a much tougher competition than the Junior division,” Hiro countered. “The team that won the championships last year did so by beating Kane and Salima of the Psykicks.”

The dumpling Steph reached for slipped through her chopsticks. “I read about them. They were called the Shell Killers [1]. Do we know anything more about them?” she asked.

“Only that they’re representing the JBO,” Hiro answered.

“What’s that?” Becky asked.

“The Japanese Beyblade Organisation,” Steph explained. She’d googled them on the flight over. Apart from the BBA, there were a few other independant companies that produced beyblade equipment. Hiwatari Enterprises and Zagart Industries also produced beyblade parts on a small scale, but Steph hadn’t even heard of the JBO before their team won last year’s competition.

“The team was They’ve made some line up changes from last year though, so I don’t know who the beybladers are. They’ll be are main competition in the upcoming tournament.”

“So what if they beat the Psykicks,” Tyson said nonchalantly. “Kane is a good beyblader but I’ve already beaten him twice before. And I don’t expect much of a challenge from a bunch of nobodies.”

As though Grandpa could sense an argument between the two brother beginning to brew, he hastily changed the subject. “Let’s not forget you’re also here for school,” he said. “Tyson tells me your sister is teaching at the Academy this year.”

“English and Literature,” Steph answered.

“Is she staying in the city?” Hiro asked. The mention of her older sister seemed to have distracted him from his argument with Tyson perfectly. Hiro and Daisy had met briefly in Italy for the European leg of the last World Championships.

Steph shook her head. “She has an apartment on campus. They even let her bring our dog.”

The conversation drifted back to more neutral territory after that, but Steph could see that Grandpa was carefully to steer the conversation away from any mention of the tournament or training for the rest of the evening. Steph had a funny feeling it was something he’d had good practice at over the last few months.

“Was it just me, or did it get a little bit tense there between you and Hiro?” Steph asked while they did the dishes. “Are you two okay after…” she trailed off, unsure how to proceed.

Tyson shrugged. The water sloshed dangerously close to the rim as he piled more plates into the sink. “After he jumped ship to BEGA and helped Boris with his insane takeover?” The sound of cutlery scraping violently against the china plates suggested the animosity between the two brothers hadn’t dissolved entirely.

“Yeah … that.” Steph rescued the plates from his hands and loaded them into the dishwasher before one of them cracked.

“We’re okay, I guess,” he said, though there was a hesitation behind his words. “We haven’t really talked about it to be honest.”

“I’m sure he had his reasons,” Steph said quietly. At least, that’s what she’d been telling herself since Dickenson had reinstated Hiro as coach. She decided to change the subject. “Did Kai say much in his email?”

Tyson shrugged. “It’s Kai - the email basically said, I’ll see you at school. I’d figured if anyone was going to hear from him after he left it would be you or Bec.”

Steph looked up to see Becky sitting on the couch next to Hiro while watching anime on the TV. Grandpa had made them chocolate ice cream for dessert. Months after his initial disappearance, Steph had received an email from Tala letting her know Kai had made his way to Russia and that the two of them were going to look for Kai’s bitbeast, Dranzer.

“No,” she said. “We haven’t heard anything from him since he left for Russia.” She sighed. “He said he needed time. Maybe he thought it’d be easier.”

“Sounds like Kai,” Tyson muttered, and it was only then that Steph realised how hard Kai’s disappearance had been on the rest of her team. “Do you think they found her?” he asked. “Dranzer, I mean.”

Steph shrugged. She didn’t know if it was possible to find a bitbeast once it had been set free of its beyblade, but if it was she certainly didn’t expect it to be an easy find.

After she helped Tyson clean up, she headed out to the Granger’s back yard with her beyblade and her launcher. She had always admired Grandpa’s garden. Like everything else about the Dojo, it was heavily inspired by traditional flora.The perimeter of the compound was lined with Japanese cedar trees, or sugi, as the Japanese referred to them. A narrow footbridge snaked over the large pond, and Steph could hear the flutter of flippers from the many Japanese Koi that Grandpa had collected over the years. Besides the large pond, Tyson and Hiro had made some renovations to they beystadium to reflect the new competition standards and the new stadium was twice as large, and less shallow than the old one. 

Her eyes on the stadium, Steph felt a sense of longing. She hadn’t spun her beyblade since her match against Enrique over a month ago. She didn’t want to be rusty for her first practice session, so she pulled her launcher and beyblade from her pocket.

The launcher itself had been a gift from Becky for her last birthday. It was a standard dual spin shooter and her beyblade had been one of Kenny’s latest heavy metal system designs. Like the other HMS Beyblades, the white and purple beyblade was smaller than Steph’s previous designs. Carefully, she slid the G-winder into the shooter and attached her beyblade.

When she quietened her mind, and pushed aside distractions, she could hear the spirit speak to her. Holding the beyblade tightly in the palm of her hand, she closed her eyes and listened for the voice. At first she could hear the sounds of Becky and Tyson’s voices arguing over the TV station, then the sounds of Grandpa’s radio - she ignored both and concentrated on her breathing, forcing herself to take slow, controlled breaths until she felt something brush against her consciousness.

_You’ve been avoiding me_ , a quiet voice chastised her.

“Seraphina?”

The spirit chuckled. _Of course_ , she said. In her mind, Seraphina’s voice had an angelic ring to it. While she knew that bitbeasts could communicate with one another, she had never known the spirit to speak to another human. For Seraphina, Steph was her link to the outside world. 

“How about a little fresh air, then?” Steph suggested. The spirit didn’t answer this time, and she didn’t need to. Steph could sense its restlessness. Seraphina launched through the air in a wide arch and into the stadium where it landed with the dull clatter of metal against metal.

Her connection with Seraphina had always been a two way relationship, the spirit could only be released from the beyblade when Steph summoned her, and the summoning could only be completed when Seraphina answered the call. When their bond had been new, summoning her bitbeast had taken all her concentration. Now, however, it was almost effortless.

The beyblade revolved on the spot in the centre of the stadium and in a brilliant flash of light that made Steph shield her eyes, the ancient spirit emerged from within.

The dragon stood as tall as the cedar trees that surrounded the garden, with a wing span twice the length of its body. Its scales were two-toned; half were a polished white and the rest were a sparkling purple, like tiny shards of amethyst. Its claws were the colour of parchment and as strong as diamonds. When the dragon fanned its wings, a shimmer of white gold dust was shed from each of its scales towards the ground.

“Better?” Steph asked.

The dragon smiled a toothy grin. _Much_ , she answered. She arched her long neck towards the moon and with a mighty flap of her wings, took to the sky. Steph sat down on the grass to watch as Seraphina circled the Dojo from above. At full expansion, her wings were twice the length of her slender body and beat softly against the air as the dragon climbed higher and higher until she was little more than a irregular dot high in the sky. Moments later, the entire sky above the Dojo was lit up by a mighty jet of purple flames. 

Seraphina didn’t appear to show an affinity for a particular element the way that Dragoon or Dranzer did. Rather, she had demonstrated a limited influence on a number of elements - and to this day, the sight of Seraphina harnessing fire could render Steph speechless.

Her restless energy expelled, the dragon returned to earth, landing with such a force the verandah rattled violently. She folded her wings around her body as she settled into the grass and snaked her head towards Steph, her nose coming to rest only centimeters from Steph’s sock clad feet. _What troubles you, child?_

“I thought you’d be disappointed in me after last our battle,” Steph admitted with a sigh, absentmindedly reaching her hand out to stroke the bridge of her nose. The scales were as rough as sandpaper beneath her fingers. “I lost my nerve in that battle, and Enrique beat us again.”

The dragon huffed, a jet of steam escaping from both nostrils and Steph tucked her feet closer to her body to avoid being burnt. _The loss was as much mine as it was yours,_ she said. _I underestimated the bond between Amphilyon and his master. I will not be so foolish next time._

“No, we won’t be,” Steph agreed. She had no intention of losing to Enrique a fifth time. She watched her beyblade as it revolved in the centre of the stadium. Without an opponent, Steph knew it would remain spinning for as long as Seraphina was within the earthly realm.

_I can feel the other spirits nearby, the spirit told her. Dragoon, Driger, Draciel and Ophelia_. Her amethyst eyes were bright with excitement. _Are we to be going into battle again?_

Steph laughed. Despite their modern housing choices, Steph had to continually remind herself that they were ancient creatures that had been lured from their realm to aid in the constant wars throughout earth’s history.

“There is a new tournament this year,” she told the bitbeast. “We’re competing for Japan again.”

_The six of us have always been a formidable team,_ Seraphina remarked, and the mention of a sixth bitbeast sparked a flicker of hope for Steph. “You can sense Dranzer then too?” she asked.

The dragon furrowed her brow in concentration. _I can sense the Phoenix,_ she said. _But not as clearly as the others. Dranzer is still healing. Her last battle cost her greatly._

“It took a lot out of you, too,” Steph reminded her gently.

_A small price to pay to silence the forces of darkness,_ Seraphina replied. 

“Was it?” she wondered. She placed her hand up against the rough scales of the dragon’s muzzle and Seraphina nuzzled into her. “I saw Kai’s face when he walked away from that match - losing Dranzer, it destroyed him. I don’t think I’d handle it any better.”

Seraphina said nothing, choosing instead to turn her attention up to the stars. They sat there in silence and after a while, the dragon began to hum quietly to herself, and Steph could feel the gentle vibrations of her breathing against the palm of her hand. When she started to drift off to sleep, the dragon gently judged her awake and sent her off to bed, her beyblade returning obediently to her hand.

The attic was empty when she went back upstairs and Steph figured Becky had gone to wash up for the night. Her phone was sitting on her bed, a missed call notification on the screen.

She crawled into bed, stifling a yawn and returned the call. Despite it being the middle of the school day in Edinburugh, it took Enrique only two rings to answer.

“About time,” her cousin’s voice was slightly miffed. “Johnny is already driving me crazy. Tell me again why this was a good idea?”

“Because there needs to be at least one body of water between us and the rest of the family to get any sort of independence,” Steph reminded him. Italian family’s had a tendency to be overbearing - Enrique’s decision to study History and Politics in another country had caused an uproar amongst the grandparents long before Steph had even considered moving to Japan.

“There needs to be a body of water between me and Johnny’s laundry basket,” Enrique told her. “I’ve never smelt something so disgusting. And he covered my Lazio poster with his Celtics rubbish!”

“That’s basically a declaration of war,” Steph said. After all, coming between an Italian and his soccer team was never a good idea. 

“If he brought his grandfather’s bagpipes I’m on the first flight out of here,” Enrique grumbled in reply and Steph laughed.

“You’ll be fine,” she assured him. She could hear Becky’s footsteps on the stairs. “I should go though, it’s late here.” There was a pause on the end of the line, and she wondered if there had been another motive behind her cousin’s call.

“Steph?” he said finally, and she could hear the hesitation in his voice.

“Yeah?”

“We’re okay, right?”

She smiled, turning Seraphina over in her hand and watching the small spec of light that reflected off the bitchip and danced across her ceiling. For a while after her loss, Steph had given some serious thought to retiring from competitions all together, but when Stanley Dickenson had approached her about returning to the BBA team for the upcoming campionships, she couldn’t have imagined saying no. It was strangely suspicious how the old man turned up out of the blue whenever she thought about quitting. 

“Yeah, we’re just fine,” she said finally.

He sighed, the relief clearly evident in his voice. “Good luck tomorrow,” he said, and hung up the line.

“Was that Enrique?” Becky asked, closing the bedroom door behind her. She was dressed in her favourite Hello Kitty pajamas.

“Just checking in. He and Johnny are getting along as expected.”

“So not at all then,” Becky surmised, crawling under the sheets. “Jess definitely had the right idea.” After two decades of living with him, a body of water hadn’t been enough for Jessica McGregor - she’d put half a world between her and her brother when she’d gone to Harvard instead.

“Even the closest family need some distance sometimes. You felt the same way once,” Steph reminded her, thinking of when Becky had first moved to Japan four years ago and spent six months as a Bladeshark. It had been the longest time the two of them had gone without speaking to one another.

Becky shrugged and flicked off the lights. “Yeah well, that’s why this year is going to be so much better,” she said. “That new Japanese team Hiro told us about isn’t going to know what hit them.”

No, Steph thought as she set Seraphina on her nightstand before she went to sleep. They certainly wouldn’t.

* * *

[1] The Shell Killers is the Japanese name for Kai’s original team, here Steph is alluding to the eventual reappearance of the Bladesharks


	2. Bakuten Academy

Chapter Two

**Bakuten Academy**

* * *

A screeching alarm greeted Steph at five past seven the next morning. She cracked one eye open reluctantly to glare at the offending clock across the room on Becky’s bedside table. Sunlight streamed through the large window around the edges of the blanket she and Becky had fashioned as a curtain the night before.

With a groan, she rolled over and covered her head with her pillow - she was not a morning person!

She heard Becky fumble with the alarm clock as she stumbled out of bed, followed by a colourful array of swear words and something about jet lag. Abruptly, Steph’s pillow and blankets were yanked away inviting the chilly spring air into her bed.

“Oi!” she glared up at her cousin, who was standing over her and holding her pillow hostage.

“School,” Becky mumbled, dumping the pillow on the end of the bed and heading downstairs to shower as Steph crawled out of bed, reaching for her phone.

There were multiple notifications, most of them from Hilary asking about school. There was a message from her mother, wishing her luck, and one from her sister reminding her to be on time. She skipped through them all and opened the last one from her best friend.

 **Max:** Lets walk to school together! Meet outside the dojo at 8?!

The text was followed by no less than six smiley face emojis. Even in the morning, Max was bright and cheery. Craving her morning coffee, she pulled on her school uniform, tucked her beyblade into her pocket and headed downstairs. The spirit inside her beyblade was quiet this morning, but their connection felt stronger the longer she was in Japan - a side effect, Steph guessed, of the six spirits being in such close proximity again.

In the tiny bathroom, Becky was running a curling iron through her hair. Steph squeezed in next to her and reached for her hairbrush.

“Don’t plug the hairdryer and the straightener in at the same time,” the younger girl suggested.

“Did you trip the circuit breaker already?” Steph guessed. Becky merely shrugged and continued curling.

Side by side in front of the mirror, the differences between the two girls were strikingly apparent. Becky was the taller of the two, with mousy hair dyed blonde and peachy skin. Steph, on the other hand, had pale skin from spending too much time indoors and long and straight dark hair.

“You better hurry,” she told her cousin as she tied her hair up in a ponytail. “We’re walking to school, remember?”

“We wouldn’t have to walk if you’d let Enrique buy us a car,” Becky said, her tone somewhat sour.

Many painstaking hours had been spent in the car with Enrique teaching her, but Steph had finally gotten her driver’s license over the summer. While it was usually easier to placate Enrique by accepting his over zealous gifts, Steph had drawn the line at him buying her a car. Enrique could never just buy a car - he had to buy the most expensive and frivolous car he could find. In Bakuten, where everyone drove mid tier Japanese cars, an Alpha Romeo would have looked entirely out of place.

“Exercise is good for the soul,” Steph told her, dumping her hairbrush in the drawer and leaving Becky to finish her curls while she hunted down her morning dose of caffeine.

Hiro was sitting at the kitchen table, sipping his own coffee with a bowl of chopped fruit in front of him and reading something on his iPad. The small T.V in the kitchen was tuned to the weather, announcing a mild, nineteen degree day with partial cloud cover. Meiko, the Granger’s cat was curled atop the TV, purring loudly.

“Morning,” she greeted, crossing the kitchen to the coffee maker. It was a welcomed surprise to see Grandpa had upgraded the coffee machine since she’d last stayed at the dojo. She filled her cup, poured in the milk and a heaped teaspoon of sugar before joining Hiro at the table.

“No breakfast?” he queried.

Steph shook her head. “Just coffee,” she said. “Where’s Grandpa?”

“The dojo,” Hiro replied. “Grandpa always starts his day with his morning kendo routine. He packed you a lunch for your first day.” He jabbed his finger towards a stack of lunch boxes on the kitchen counter. Steph hadn’t had a home made lunch since she was in middle school. “Make sure Tyson doesn’t forget his.”

Figuring that it was a strong possibility, Steph tucked Tyson’s lunch into her school bag beside her own and sat down at the table with her coffee. She sipped her coffee, wondering whether or not Hiro was the morning conversation type of person. It seemed polite to at least offer some conversation.

“Your sister called this morning.”

“Oh?” Steph said, unable to disguise her surprise. 

“She wanted to check you’d settled in. I said the move went fine. She mentioned you were taking a few accelerated classes this year. Are you planning on applying at Oxford next year?”

“It’s the family tradition,” Steph said. Her mother, father and aunts had all been Oxford graduates. Enrique had already sent in his application and been accepted to study Ancient History beginning next year.

“Law?” Hiro guessed. “Or maybe Medicine like your mom? She’s a doctor isn’t she.”

“Yep - a surgeon actually,” Steph nodded. “I’m not sure what I want to do yet, though.”

“I think that’s pretty common at your age,” Hiro commented. “What about extracurriculars? I remember you being a keen photographer and the school has a good photography program.”

Participation in at least one after school group was mandatory for students at Bakuten Academy. Before enrolling, Steph had been made to sit down with one of the school’s curriculum advisors, a very old, stern looking Japanese woman who had gone over all of Steph’s school records.

Despite her good grades, the advisor had expressed doubts about Steph managing the accelerated subjects alongside training and competing. Instead she had suggested something less involved for an after school group, and then gone on to talk about calligraphy and flower-arrangement groups, neither of which appealed to Steph in the very least.

“Yeah,” she said. “Photography might be nice.”

Silence fell between them once again and Hiro resumed reading the news while Steph stare down at her coffee, willing the caffeine to jumpstart her brain.

It was almost eight before Tyson entered the kitchen, still half asleep and mumbling about breakfast. He made a bee-line for the cupboard and poured himself a bowl of cereal and joined them at the table.

“Your jumper is on backwards,” Hiro commented, his eyes barely leaving his iPad. Tyson looked down at his navy jumper and swore loudly before pulling his arms back through the sleeves. He shimmied the jumper around until the Bakuten crest was at the front, then shoved his arms unceremoniously back into the sleeves.

“Skillful,” Steph commented, watching him stab his spoon into the cereal, sloshing milk over the kitchen table.

Hiro narrowed his eyes, pulling his iPad out of Tyson’s vicinity. “You might want to pick a healthy breakfast option when training starts tomorrow,” he commented dryly. Tyson merely stuck out his tongue before heaping a spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

“Are we training here at the dojo?” Steph asked.

Hiro shook his head. “The school has been kind enough to lend us their gym while the BBA Headquarters are being renovated. I’m hoping we can train at least four nights a week.”

“Four times a week?” Tyson groaned. “Are you trying to kill us? We’ve never had to practice that much.”

Hiro’s eyebrow twitched in annoyance. “You’ve also never taken a year off before. Do I need to remind you that while you’ve been catching up on your comic books this last year, the White Tigers, the All Starz and the Blitzkrieg Boys all placed first in their respective national leagues?”

Tyson pulled a face while helping himself to a second bowl of cereal. “Why you gotta hate on the comics? We can’t all be stiffs and read the news.”

Hiro, with years of practice ignoring his younger brother’s jabs, merely sipped his coffee. “Maybe, but last I checked both Clarke Kent and Peter Parker worked for a newspaper.”

Steph laughed and checked her phone. There was another message from Max, letting her know he was waiting outside. As she tucked her phone carefully back into her pocket, her fingers brushed the bitchip of her beyblade and she felt Seraphina’s excitement - the spirit could sense Draciel and Drigger nearby.

“If you don’t hurry up, we’re going to be late,” she told him lightly. She tipped the rest of her coffee into her travel mug, then filled a second mug straight from the pot and headed for the door just as Becky came down the stairs, her hair freshly curled and her Hello Kitty backpack slung over her shoulder.

“Thanks,” she said, taking the mug. “Where’s Tyson?”

Steph nodded her head towards the kitchen while she slipped on her shoes and grabbed the keys Grandpa had left out for them.

Becky peered into the kitchen where Tyson was heaping more cereal into his bowl.“Tyson, we’re leaving without you!”

Tyson’s reply was muffled by food, but sounded almost like an “I’m coming!” Laughing and shaking her head, Steph opened the door and the two girls headed toward the rear gates of the Dojo where Max was waiting for them.

The blonde American was sitting on the rear fence, doodling in his notebook, an earphone in one ear. Beside him, their Chinese teammate, Ray Kon was reading a graphic novel while leaning up against the fence post.

“There you are!” Max said at once, his ocean blue eyes lighting up when he saw them. “Tyson not ready yet?” He hopped down from the fence and gave both girls an enthusiastic hug.

Max was sixteen, and along with Becky, would be starting in the eleventh grade. Like Tyson, he’d grown significantly taller over the last twelve months. He wore his blonde hair shorter than Steph remembered, and his freckles had mostly faded.

“Still on his third bowl of cereal,” she explained.

“Sounds like Tyson,” Ray muttered. “Hilary will skin him alive if he’s late on his first day.” He closed his book and tucked it into his bag. He’d swapped out his usual red headband for a blue one that matched the school uniform, but his hair was as unruly as ever. _Some things,_ Steph thought with a smile, _never changed._

“That’ll save Hiro from doing it a t training later this week,” Becky said. She had pulled out her phone and was testing someone - probably Hilary - with one hand, while sipping coffee with the other. “Shall we, then?” she suggested without looking up.

The Academy was a short walk from the Dojo, and while it would have been nice to have a car, the walk gave the four of them some time to catch up. Ray had spent the school break with his White Tiger teammates teachings kids in remote regions of China about beyblading. He’d flown back to Japan only days before Steph and Becky because he’d stayed to watch Lee win the Chinese tournament.

“That makes two consecutive championships for Lee in two years,” Steph commented. “Master Tao must be so proud.”

“It didn’t stop him from working us half to death over the break,” Ray said with the ghost of a smile. “How about you Max, did you get much practice in over the break?”

“Not as much as I should have,” Max admitted somewhat sheepishly. “We spent a lot of the break renovating the shop for the reopening.”

Max’s dad, Taro, ran a hobby shop that specialised in Beyblade parts. Following the rise of BEGA, however, the hobby shop had been forced out of business when he refused to stock BEGA’s parts. Steph was glad to hear he’d managed to reopen.

“That reminds me,” he added. “My mom just got her equipment shipped over from the States.” He said “mom” in his typical American accent. “Dad ordered all of the latest parts as well. He said we could use them to upgrade our beyblades before the tournament.”

“Is Judy still working for the PPB?” Becky asked. Project Power Beyblade was the American Beyblade Organisation Judy worked for. 

“Yep,” Max said proudly. “But they’re letting her work from their headquarters in Japan - at least until Charlotte is old enough to go to school.”

They rounded the corner and the gates of Bakuten Academy came into view. In all her trips to Bakuten, Steph had never seen the school up close before. From the street, only the front entrance to the school, marked by wrought iron gates, could be seen. The rest of the Academy was concealed behind tall hedges that lined its perimeter.

“Pretentious,” Becky remarked, looking up from her phone just long enough to give her appraisal of the school.

“It’s bigger than I thought it would be,” Max said. “It kind of looks like the Ivy League schools back home.”

“Does Mr Dickenson really expect us to fit in here?” Tyson said, appearing behind them and making Becky exclaim in surprise. His red, blue and white baseball cap was tucked under his arm and he appeared slightly out of breath.

“Did you run all the way here?” Ray asked, a hint of disapproval in his voice.

Tyson nodded between breaths. “Maybe I’m more out of shape than I thought,” he said.

“Can we go inside now?” Steph muttered uncomfortably. A number of students had gathered around the gates and were looking over at them and whispering to one another. “People are starting to stare at us.”

They made their way through the gates. The school buildings were all made of stone and surrounded a spacious courtyard decorated with stone pathways and large cherry blossom trees waiting to bloom.

The stares followed them through the gates and into the bustling school grounds. The other students moved around them, giving the newcomers a wide birth. Some of them were subtle about it, others barely bothered to hide it, whispering under their breath as they passed.

_“Is that Tyson Granger? Did you know he went to school here?”_

_“And that’s Max Tate. Isn’t he on the PPB All Starz?”_ another voice said.

“I’m feeling a very ‘deer-in-the-headlights’ vibe right now,” Becky muttered under her breath, nervously hitching her school bag a little higher onto her shoulder.

“The BEGA tournament was heavily publicised across Japan last year,” Max said with a shrug. “They probably recognise us from the tournament.”

One of the students, a male with pale skin and dark blue highlights in his hair was staring directly at them as they made their way through the double doors into the main building. Steph felt a chill creep up her spine. “I get that - but why are they looking at us as though we’re a snack?” she asked.

“A lot of that publicity wasn’t the greatest,” Ray reminded her. “The BEGA team were pretty popular. As far as the general populace is concerned, we’re the rag tag group that usurped Boris’s superstars. They don’t know what went on behind the scenes.”

Between Tala and Garland, he means, Steph thought to herself. Of course Boris would want to keep quiet about the outcome of that match. Tala had been placed in a medically induced coma for six weeks following the match, and Steph knew that if it hadn’t been for Dranzer, he might not have woken up.

“If there was one thing Boris was good at,” Becky muttered, and there was an edge to her voice; “it was feeding people a bunch of lies.”

“That’s for the BBA to worry about now,” Steph reminded her kindly. She knew the BBA would be launching an inquest into Boris’s takeover, but she also knew that those sort of legal matters could take years. There wasn’t any point worrying about it now.“Let’s just focus on getting through school today.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Ray agreed. “It looks like the main building is over there,” Max said, pointing to a large building on their left. Above the main doorway, written in both kanji and letters were the words ‘school office’. He led the way through the double doors and into the entrance hall where they were immediately swooped upon by Hilary.

“There you are,” she said, making Tyson and Max jump with surprise. The former BBA Revolutions manager wore her hair neatly in two braids she held a stack of books in her arms and her school bag was bursting at the seams with the rest of her school things.

“Tyson, your tie is crooked,” she tsked, tucking her books under one arm and reaching over to fix the offending uniform, much to the World Champion’s chargrin. “I thought you were going to be late,” she went on. “I got here an hour early, of course, so I went ahead and got everyone’s class schedules and school diaries.” Satisfied with Tyson’s appearance, she began handing out a handful of timetables.

“It’s good to see you’re only slightly neurotic today, Hilary,” Ray told her. His tone was teasing, but with his usual friendliness, causing Hilary to flush.

“Well, you know - I wanted to be prepared,” she said, handing him his timetable and diary. “Mr Dickenson went to a lot of trouble organising these scholarships for us - do you know that Bakuten offers an entire English curriculum alongside the standard Japanese curriculum?”

Steph did know that, actually. Next to Hilary, she was probably the only other team member that had read the Academy handbook from cover to cover. She glanced down at her timetable; She had Math first, then History. Chemistry, Biology and Gym were after recess; English and Physics rounded off the day after lunch. 

Becky peered over Steph’s shoulder and huffed disapprovingly. “We only have two classes together.” She handed Steph her timetable for comparison. Becky had been placed in accelerated English and Biology for the twelfth grade. She’d also been assigned to English Literature, Algebra and Psychology.

“We have Gym together too,” Steph remarked. That was one subject she wasn’t looking forward to. Her coordination, or lack there of, meant that physically activity outside of Beyblading was risky business. “We’re in Daisy’s English class in fifth period.”

“I have English fifth period too,” Max piped up. “And I’m in Algebra with Becky.”

“Kenny’s in that class too,” Hilary informed them. “He’s already went to Homeroom. The eleventh grade classrooms are down that hall,” she said pointing. “The senior classrooms are upstairs.”

They waved goodbye to Becky and Max, and Hilary led the way up the stairs. Steph was about to follow when she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. When she checked the notification there was no text, only a blurred photo of a timetable. Her phone buzzed again, this time with a message to accompany the photo.

 **Tala** : Please tell me I’m not suffering through the whole day with Hiwatari on my own?!?

Steph grinned to herself. It appeared her best friend was as blunt as always today. Snapping a photo of her own timetable, she sent it back along with a caption.

 **Steph** : Only until third period. We have Chemistry together.

The reply was almost instantaneous.

 **Tala** : Nerd. Trust you to be taking three sciences.

“Are you coming, Steph?” Hilary called impatiently from the stairs. Typing a final hasty reply, Steph stuffed her phone into her pocket and hurried after her.

The former G Revolutions manager didn’t seem to notice the hum of hushed voices that followed them as she chattered excitedly. “They gave all the new students an orientation last week,” she explained. “Those of us that were here in Japan anyway. The senior classrooms should be down this hallway… aha!” she exclaimed triumphantly as she turned the corner into the seniors corridor.

Bakuten Academy had a grand total of seventy-two students in its senior year, split into three classes. Steph looked down at her timetable to check which class they were in.

“It says twelve-B,” she read. 

“That’s this one,” Tyson said eagerly, opening the door to classroom to their left. Their teacher hadn’t arrived yet and a hushed silence fell over the classroom as the students turned to stare at the newcomers. It was obvious, Steph figured, from the guilty looks on her new classmates faces, that they had been talking about the Bladebreakers.

“Well, this just got awkward,” she remarked quietly.

“We should sit down,” Ray suggested.

“There are no seats together,” Tyson said, sounding dismayed.

Impatiently, Hilary peered over his shoulder to look for herself. “Yes there is - there’s two in the front row.” she observed. “And some up the back - we can sit in pairs at least.”

Steph wasn’t sure which would be worse - sitting with Hilary in the front row, who was bound to draw unwanted attention with her eager questions - or sitting with Tyson, who attracted unwanted attention by virtue of being Tyson. Steph wasn’t keen on either option.

“That window seat up the back looks good to me,” Ray said quickly. “Don’t you think, Steph?”

Curious glances followed Steph as she and Ray made their way towards the back of the class and took their seats - Ray kindly offered her the window seat. A couple of students around them began to whisper amongst them sounds, and some of them aimed not so subtle glances in their direction. Eventually, a boy in the row in front of them turned around in his seat.

“Hey, you’re Steph Summers, right?”

Steph looked up, surprised to see the boy with the blue highlights she’d seen in the courtyard earlier that morning. She hesitated, feeling a number of curious eyes watching them both and beside her, Ray offered her an encouraging smile.

Across the room, she could see Tyson was being similarly interrogated by his classmates. The World Champion was completely at ease as he fielded questions, and Steph could see Dragoon perched on his desk for his classmates to see. Beside him, Hilary had her text book open and was doing her best to pretend Tyson didn’t exist.

 _Someone is certainly in his element,_ Steph thought with a sigh as she turned back to her expectant classmate. 

Setting down her pencil, she managed a shy smile. “Yeah,” she said. “That’s me.”

His face lit up eagerly. “I knew it,” he said. “I saw you in the European tournament. You were awesomeagainst that French guy. I’m Mike, by the way,” he said, flashing her a smile. Beneath the dyed hair, he had dark features and blue eyes that couldn’t possibly have been entirely Japanese. He wouldn’t look out of place in a rock band, she thought.

“Nice to meet you, Mike,” she said politely. She hoped he didn’t expect her to start showing off her beyblade too.

“And you must be Ray Kon,” he said. “What brings you guys to Bakuten?”

“Well, we’re competing in the upcoming tournament together,” Steph explained hesitantly. “We’re representing the BBA.” 

Mike, it turned out, was exceptionally nice. He’d been a student at Bakuten since the ninth grade. Like Steph, he was an international student, and his father was German, which explained his interest in the European Championships. His mother was a journalist.

At some point in the conversation, Steph found herself only half listening - something on the cover of Mike’s notebook had caught her attention. It was a sticker of a guitar with words scribbled in black marker underneath.

 _The Teenage Wolves_ … why did that sound familiar to her?

“So, are you ready for this morning’s test?” Mike asked her, catching her attention again.

Steph blinked. “What test?”

“It’s Bakuten Academy tradition to start the new year by making the students sit an exam on the first day of school, you know, to see how much study you did over the holidays.” 

“That seems hardly fair,” Steph remarked.

“It’s entirely sadistic,” Mike agreed with a grin. “But that’s Bakuten Academy for you. They like to keep the students on their toes.”

He fell silent as their math teacher entered. She was an older, serious looking woman, with large rimmed glasses and a thick Japanese accent. As Mike had predicted, she had a handful of Maths test with her which she distributed to the class.

Mike mouthed a wordless ‘good luck’ to her before turning around in his seat. Across the room, she could see Hilary and Tyson conversing in low voices. Hilary was looking annoyed, and Steph could only guess Tyson had already asked if he could copy her answers.

Steph looked down at her own test. Mike certainly hadn’t been lying about the test. At her old school, she had been placed in the accelerated maths class so some of the Math problems were familiar to her. Even so it took Steph the entire period to complete the test, and even she wasn’t sure all her answers were correct when the bell rang announcing the end of the period.

“That was brutal,” Tyson remarked after they’d handed in their tests and followed their classmates out into the hall. “Who gives a test on the first day of school?”

“The questions were rather difficult,” Hilary agreed. “But Bakuten Academy students high acceptance rates at all the top tier universities around the world. And this is senior year - If you want any hope of graduating you should keep Dragoon in your pocket and concentrate on your school work instead of showing off to the other students.” With that, she turned around and stalked off towards her next class.

“What’s her problem?” Tyson asked, watching her weave through the throng of students. “Am I just supposed to pretend I’m not the World Champion?”

“Maybe not pretend,” Ray suggested, in his usual diplomatic manner. “But we probably shouldn’t draw any more attention to ourselves.”

Tyson huffed in annoyance and turned to Steph. “You don’t think I’m showing off do you?” 

Figuring that whatever response she gave would likely just irk Tyson further, she merely shrugged and focused her attention on the school map and trying to decipher the colour coded instructions Hilary had left her for getting between her classes. Steph had never been good with directions, and it took four attempts for her to find the right corridor towards their History class. 

Even with Dragoon tucked safely in Tyson’s pocket, whispers continued to follow them around the school for the rest of the morning. As they left Maths, a small group of girls whispered excitedly to each other while stealing glances at both Tyson and Ray. Between Maths and History, another student double backed in the corridor to pass them, and Steph was certain she heard him mention her name to his friend. 

History was no better than Maths had been. It was quickly becoming apparent that the the teachers at Bakuten Academy had no intentions of easing the students into their final year. There was no test, but their History teacher set them enough homework to fill their entire afternoon and then some. She almost didn’t want to think about trying to juggle the workload with beyblade practice.

“Homework on the first day,” Tyson muttered. “If we’re not careful, we might actually learn something here.” He had his map in hand after second period - it had the same colour coded lines as Steph’s did. 

“I think that’s the purpose of this institution,” Ray informed him. He and Tyson had Japanese for third period which mean Steph would have to find her way to her next class alone. “What class do you have next?”

“Chemistry,” she said. “It’s in Lab Three.”

Ray checked his map. “That should be in the Science wing,” he told her. “If you take that staircase there and turn left, if should be at the end of the hall.”

“Thanks, Ray.”

“How come your map isn’t colour coded?” Tyson asked.

“Because I can be trusted not to get lost on the way to the bathroom,” Ray said simply. 

Laughing quietly, Steph waved them goodbye and headed up the stairs toward the Science wing. As promised, Lab Three was at the end of the hall, where Tala and Kai were waiting for her.


End file.
